


Achtung, Baby

by Persephone



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fellatio, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-09
Updated: 2011-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-27 03:03:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephone/pseuds/Persephone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles and Erik on the hunt for mutants. It seems the perfect time to test boundaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Achtung, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> "Mr. Black" is Oliver Platt's character, so named by me.

They came into the strip club to pick up Angel. After receiving Angel’s acceptance they ought to have left, instead Charles suggested that they stay. And so faced with Charles’s enthusiasm and against his better judgement, they stayed and took up their places back at the bar. 

And in no time at all, Charles was sloshed.

Charles kept staring at the dancers, explaining, mainly to himself, how downright hypnotic it all was because their movements were like the motion of waves and that it made perfect sense because waves were a very easy form of transmission that our brains could perceive, and usually he wasn’t one for this sort of thing but that wasn’t it sort of fascinating and that look, that one over there might actually like him and what should he do, Erik, until Charles simply talked himself into going for a lap dance in one of the private rooms.

He contemplated not voicing his opinion, rubbing his jaw for a moment before deciding that he wouldn’t be doing Charles any favors by not saying it, and told Charles he didn’t think Charles knew what he was doing. 

“’Course I know what I’m doing,” Charles easily dismissed. “I always know what I’m doing. I’m on the hunt for something magical. Come with, Erik. Oh please, please, don’t say no.”

And so he went, and sat in a corner while Charles got his dance. 

Charles did look as though he was having a magical experience, turning pink-cheeked and forgetting entirely to close his mouth. For once Charles actually seemed without words. He could only look on in amusement, wondering what it took to be so bold at doing things you hadn’t a clue about.

They were leaving, Charles in disarray and blissful spirits, and were at the car when Charles suddenly turned to him, leaned on him and wrapped his arms around his neck. 

Only slightly startled, since he’d seen Charles drunk before and knew Charles could get overly friendly, he held Charles by the waist and steadied him.

“Easy, Charles,” he murmured.

“I am quite easy.” Then Charles looked up into his face. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

He almost laughed. “Charles, you’re drunk.” 

“I know I’m drunk, but you’re still beautiful. And I’d like a kiss, please.”

“Charles, stop it.”

“Stop what? Saying you’re beautiful, or that I’d like a kiss? Don’t be shy to say what you mean, Erik. We’re all friends here.”

He started to laugh. He couldn’t help himself. Charles knew no boundaries. Perhaps knowing what people were thinking whenever you wished, and then being able to make them do or not do, also as you wished, made you feel invincible.

He reached behind and unlocked Charles’s arms. Charles was too far gone to protest. They moved to the car and he gently deposited Charles inside and got into the driver’s side. He opened his hand toward the ignition without thought and took hold of the steering wheel as the car responded to his gesture. 

A world full of people like himself. Who would have believed it. Certainly not him. He glanced over at Charles. Charles was fast asleep. 

He arrived at their hotel - opulent enough to make a Duke nervous; Charles’s pick - and quickly got out when the valet ran up. He walked around and held up a hand to indicate that he would extract the sleeping man himself, and took the door handle when the valet nodded and stepped back. He carefully popped the door and bent inside. Charles stirred and took hold of his neck again.

“Mmmm,” Charles moaned, apparently carrying on from where he’d left off. “This is fast becoming my favorite thing.”

He glanced self-consciously at the valet, who pressed his lips tight and firmly nodded, evidently no stranger to drunk guests, and half dragged, half walked Charles into the lobby. Charles woke up enough to look around as they trudged past the concierge. 

“How very lovely,” Charles remarked, at the lights all around them, as though it was all new to him.

They reached the lifts. He punched the button and gently moved Charles inside, then stepped in and punched their floor number. Charles was blinking slowly, shaking his head slowly.

“Life is so good, Erik. So full of astonishing things.” 

He watched the floor indicators light up.

“You don’t think so, do you though? Despite everything you’ve seen, you insist on staying in that one corner of yourself.”

He glanced behind him at Charles, wondering when he would learn to become offended when Charles freely entered his mind. Or whether he ever would. “For now, yes.”

“You are an enigma, Mr. Lehnsherr, I’ll tell you that for nothing. I know everything about you and still you remain a mystery to me.”

They reached their floor and Charles raised a placid hand, indicating that he could walk himself without too much assistance. He still needed a hand on his back, however. So he guided Charles toward his door, waited for him to find his keys, unlock the door and stumble inside. He steered Charles toward the bed but Charles headed for the sofa, which was closer. Charles dropped like a log, and he went into the bathroom to bring him a glass of water.

“Thank you,” Charles sighed, taking the water and gulping it down. He set the tumbler on the side table and sighed heavily, lifted his eyes and sat there staring at him. 

He raised an eyebrow at Charles.

“Well, I can’t possibly attempt to lie down on my own,” Charles told him softly, apparently also unaware that he was batting his eyelashes. “I’ll fall over.”

He nodded and bent over. Charles grabbed his arm, swung himself onto the cushions and laid down on his side. The movement put them very close.

“Better?” he asked, trying not to breathe on Charles’s mouth. 

“Much,” Charles said, lifting it. He puckered.

“Charles, you’re not entirely sober.” 

“I’m sober enough.” 

“Charles...” 

“All right then, just lay down with me.” 

He looked at the sofa. There wasn’t enough room. Charles immediately wriggled toward the back. He glanced at Charles, sure he hadn’t said it. 

“Just until I fall asleep,” 

He sighed and didn’t budge.

Charles let his arm fall back to his side and said very softly, “You’re being awfully difficult, Erik, and I can’t imagine why.” 

“Can’t you?” 

“You’re not going to hurt me and I know what I’m doing.” 

He hadn’t said that aloud, either.

Charles’s eyes roamed his face. “I’m very attracted to you.” He blushed. Charles smiled slowly, pointing a weaving finger at him. “See, you quite like it when I say things like that.” 

He gently lifted Charles’s chin. He planted a kiss on Charles’s mouth and Charles closed his eyes. He kept his open and pulled back. Everything would be normal again in the morning.

He stood up, clenching his jaw when he saw Charles’s eyes follow his legs, his crotch, and stay on his crotch. He moved from the sofa toward the door. 

“Good night, Erik,” Charles called quietly from the sofa. 

“Good night, Charles,” he responded. And left.

The next morning at breakfast Charles was fresh, sober, back on the horse. They had a million mutants to find this morning alone and then it was off to Chicago, and then across to Cedar Rapids. God, if only they could offer to take every one of the mutants they encountered, how wonderful would that be? But of course they couldn’t, it was CIA work and they were bound to be a bit more careful as to who they chose. So all they could do was put the suitable ones on a plane to the Facility. But one day! Wouldn’t it be absolutely tremendous to have a place where all of them could congregate whenever they wished, and no one would have to be made to feel self-conscious or apologetic of who they were and what they could be. It could happen.

“Self-conscious or apologetic, a person could handle,” he told Charles. “Safety is what mutants must have. And we might never have that.” 

“You’re wrong, Erik. People have carved out places of safety for themselves throughout human history. Your own people are doing so as we speak. Doesn’t that give you hope?” 

He gazed at Charles. “It does. But the rules of achieving and maintaining safety may not be to your liking.” 

“Rules can be argued over later. We must first get that place.” 

He dipped his head in acquiescence. Charles knew of his unease with this mission, but they both knew he didn’t harbour delusions about how the world worked. You got to A before you proceeded to B.

“This is all so exciting, Erik!” 

He laughed. It was, when seen through Charles’s eyes.

While Charles paid for their bill, he took the time to watch Charles. It appeared the drunken fixation from the night before had passed.

Oddly, he didn’t know whether he was pleased or not. It had been such a...wonderful thing, to be considered beautiful by Charles. 

Then he decided that he was in fact pleased, but that his ego merely felt slighted to have been so easily forgotten this morning. 

They made it to Chicago that afternoon, and that turned out to be pure madness. They got drenched from a kitchen window by a threatened, water-shifting mutant - something Charles found quite stunning - got chased down an alley by a growling one, broke into the basement of an abandoned mental asylum to rescue a lost one, and nearly got arrested by city police for solicitation of prostitutes, through no fault of their own, for chasing a shapeshifting one. All of which was due to Charles insisting that they not use their powers unless demonstrating to a fellow mutant, as they didn’t want to draw undue attention, so were left doing most of it the hard way.

He had to admit he’d never had so much fun in his life.

When it was all over Charles insisted that they go dancing. They did, or Charles did, while he had a drink at the bar and watched Charles smoothly weave his way from one dance partner to the next. A lesson in perseverance, to say the least.

They finally caught their breaths at a jazz club in Kansas City. 

It was a well-deserved rest. The club’s atmosphere was mellow and alluring, and reminded him of the Dusseldorf of his childhood, when he would hide under cars with his friends and watch glitzy women and dapper men pour in and out of nightclubs.

He paused, mildly surprised that he could so easily conjure up those memories, when those times were now suspended in an eternity he did not visit. But he could still hear the warm sensuality of jazz strains, filtering out of open doorways and into streets like a serenade, even to children. Calling into the night like the notes of a siren song.

“You have such beautiful memories.”

He brought his gaze to Charles. Charles was sitting across the small table with his chin propped in his hand, staring dreamily at him. 

Charles sat back and sighed. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to you. It’s like resisting looking at a fireworks display.”

He smiled. 

“Right,” Charles said. “I’m getting drunk.” 

“No, Charles.”

“Yes!”

“Charles!” He shut up as a waiter came over.

“Two whiskeys, please,” Charles said smoothly, eyeing him with amusement. “And a Schnapps for my friend.” 

“Right away, sir.” 

He leaned over the table. “You’re not having two whiskeys.” 

“Yes I am. We did an amazing job today and I’m going to celebrate.” 

“I’m not going to carry you.” 

“You’re not going to have to. I know my limits now.” 

He laughed. Of course Charles didn’t. He hadn’t been drinking spirits long enough. “Fine,” he said, sitting back. It made it easier, anyway. 

“Easier to what?”

He slowly looked back at Charles. Charles raised his eyebrows innocently. Charles hadn’t put his fingers to his temple but he knew Charles considered doing so a crutch. He could use his powers just fine without it, as long as he used some additional effort. It appeared he was deciding to practice more and more.

And it seemed he’d been wrong about Charles’s interest being a drunken one-night fixation. Aside from a few looks Charles had thrown him over the past few days, Charles was sober now and back to talking openly about it.

Without responding he took to watching the stage instead, where the band was between sets. Charles didn’t need a verbal response anyway. 

Charles sat forward and lowered his voice. “You can’t keep resisting me forever, Erik.”

He threw Charles a look. “When are you going to stop this?”

“When you stop bombarding me with your wicked thoughts.”

“You can stop listening in any time.”

Charles sat back, pouting. “It’s not as easy as all that, you know. Not with you, at least.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re so damned— attractive. Positively magnetic, if you’ll pardon the expression. To me, anyway.”

He didn’t say anything.

“You’re constantly setting things off inside my head. I try to look the other way, as it were, even though I don’t particularly want to to begin with, and all I get is a sort of— heavy— pulling—” Charles stopped, then dropped his jaw at him. “Oh, you go on thinking this is the perfect place to have this conversation, Erik, just because we’re in public. Toothless, indeed. I swear, I have a mind to—”

Charles stuttered as his breath caught in his chest. His bent over as his eyes widened, a rapid blinking setting in. Charles’s eyes flew to him, then instantly dropped. For several moments all Charles could do was simply sit there and look as though he was...choking. 

He reached forward and picked up his water, saying nothing. Just then the waiter brought their drinks and he appreciatively replaced his water with a Schnapps.

Charles choked out a thanks to the waiter and didn’t touch his whiskey. And Charles continued refusing to look at him. 

Or couldn’t, perhaps was the better phrasing.

He’d made sure the image he’d projected had been thoroughly detailed, completely loud, and very, very graphic. 

He watched, fascinated, as he would have never believed that anything could stop Charles in his tracks. He apparently deserved more credit than he’d known to give himself.

If he understood it correctly, Charles’s telepathy was part and parcel sense perception. In being able to access other people’s minds Charles could not only convince them of whatever he wanted them to believe, but also induce physical sensation, even up to the point of paralysis.

This meant, however, that Charles was also vulnerable to perceiving what those others were feeling, in very strong, overpowering sensations, as though he was actually experiencing it.

Even to the point of inducing physical responses.

Therefore, if he understood it correctly, Charles at that moment, was having a very awkward, very real situation unfolding in his more private areas. He continued to watch in fascination.

Fist clenched, Charles reached for his drink, then apparently even that was too much movement to risk and pulled it back. Resolutely, he tapped the table with his fist, composing himself. Apparently needing time to find his voice. Eventually, he spoke.

“I...didn’t know one could d-do that. To...an-nother.”

“No?”

Charles pressed his fingertips to his forehead where a very thin sheen had broken out, and started taking long, controlled breaths.

“Do you need to use the men’s room?” he prompted.

“In a moment yes, thank you.”

He gave Charles several. Charles then stood up, surreptitiously taking his napkin with him, and strode toward the passage leading to the men’s room. The band struck up.

Feeling slightly guilty, he nevertheless felt perversely good about himself. There was, after all, only so much a man could take, and Charles had been enjoying his dangerous flirtation far too much.

But, knowing Charles’s capacity for singleminded focus and seeing as in this instance he had been the instigator, when he could have let it pass, he left cash on the table and stood up. 

Whatever Charles was going to do to himself in the lavatory wasn’t going to alleviate the problem but exacerbate it. He went to wait by the door.

Charles emerged soon, indeed having returned much too quickly for anything more than a few deep breaths and an adjustment to have taken place, and instantly found him. Dropping his napkin on a table and mumbling an apology to the huffing patrons seated there, Charles put his head down and walked toward him.

“Come on,” Charles said, continuing past. “We’re calling it a night.”

“Why?” he asked casually. “The night is still young.”

But Charles was already outside. They caught a taxi and rode back to the hotel in silence. 

He glanced at Charles. “Are you upset at me?”

“No, not in the least, why would I be?” 

Charles said each word breathlessly, in a rush to get them all out.

He brought his eyes to the back of the cabbie’s head, almost, but not quite, smiling. It was always the controlling ones, wasn’t it, the one who naturally felt in charge, that couldn’t handle a single curveball sent their way. Why wasn’t he surprised.

From the moment he had met Charles he had felt a complete trust of him he couldn’t understand. And this especially for a man like himself. He realized though, within a very short time, that trying to understand Charles was like trying to understand how a smile worked. That was Charles’s mutation: the ability to seem like part of you. 

Upon realizing that, he had given Charles free reign inside his head. Perhaps that was what Charles found so attractive about him. But their friendship had moved at the speed of light, if it hadn’t in fact been instantaneous, and whatever he had felt that morning after he’d almost left the Facility, that moment in Mr. Black’s office when Charles had sided with him over finding the mutants, he felt it much deeper now after having traveled together with him for days. And he had to admit it was heady.

But he by no means thought it was a signal to boldly go. The world was dangerous. Feelings were dangerous, and he couldn’t understand how Charles didn’t see that.

They reached their hotel and Charles paid for their ride and walked ahead of him into the lobby, up the stairs this time, not via the lift, and with no remarks on the appeal of the decor. He merely followed. On the third floor, at Charles’s door, Charles turned to him and jangled his keys noisily in his hand.

“Right, well,” Charles said, then cleared his throat. Then he abruptly turned around and began trying to insert the key into the lock. But his hand was trembling too much, and he couldn’t align the two. He watched, surprised.

“I’ll get it right in a moment,” Charles said with a touch of embarrassment.

But the key wouldn’t go in. Whatever Charles was playing over in his head seemed to be incompatible with a steady hand. And the...situation in his trousers hadn’t fully subsided either.

He started feeling more than just slightly guilty now. It had been an underhanded thing to do, what he had done to Charles.

Charles had only been seeking a harmless kiss to accommodate his equally harmless and admittedly flattering interest, and he had instead essentially performed an X-rated act on him. He had no real idea how strongly something of that nature might have affected someone with Charles’s abilities.

He felt embarrassed, and a bit too low to talk about it at the moment. 

“All right, Charles,” he said quietly. “I’ll leave you to it.” He would apologize another time. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Charles turned around. “Where’re you going?”

“To my room. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Charles wrinkled his nose. “You’re joking, right? After what you did, please tell me you’re joking. We’re going inside.”

“Charles,” he said, disbelievingly. “That piece of...communication...was meant to scare you off.”

“Not on your life.”

“But surely you don’t expect me to—” He stopped, changing his mind. “This is a conversation without a purpose.”

“Erik,” Charles said patiently, looking bemused and shaking his head as though he, Erik, was being naive. “Surely you don’t expect to send someone that sort of communication and expect the story to just end there. Good lord. After something like that, you either put up or risk damaging your reputation rather permanently. Were I you, I’d come inside immediately.”

He frowned, giving himself a small mental shake. Listening to Charles’s smoothly flowing words he’d somehow started having the sensation that he was being given a hypnotic suggestion.

He narrowed his eyes at Charles, trying to see whether this was in fact the case, but Charles was simply waiting for him to respond. And with a rather bland expression, considering the circumstances. He didn’t seem to be exerting any kind of influence whatever.

And yet he felt as though he ought to actually go in there and...kiss him.

This was his moment to leave.

He didn’t leave.

Instead he stood there watching Charles watching him expectantly. 

Then he saw the small furrow in Charles’s brow that he had come to learn indicated disappointment. Not in a circumstance but in a person.

He dropped his head, shaking it in amusement. Charles was “expecting more” of him. He had seen this look used on Raven. He was being manipulated, not influenced. 

He ought to leave. He knew he would only be giving in to Charles’s disarming nature. He knew that.

But, he slipped his hands into his pockets and walked over. 

He waited until he was close enough to do it in Charles’s ear and whispered, “Just one kiss.”

And besides, wasn’t it always better to give a person a taste of what they wanted and assuage them, rather than withholding it and increasing its potency? He’d certainly been in dicier romantic situations.

Charles said nothing and gave him a look out of the corner of his eye, then aligned the key to the lock. It easily slid in. He blinked, wondering whether he had been played. Charles unlocked and shoved open the door, then stood aside to let him in. 

He hesitated, then slowly walked in. Charles came in after him, reaching behind him to close the door. He leaned against the wood and stared down at Charles’s all-business expression, and waited.

“Right,” Charles said, tossing the keys to the floor and standing imperiously before him. “I believe you’ve something you’d like to show me.”

“Technically, you already saw it.”

Charles gave him a conceding glance, but shook his head. “Don’t spoil this for me, Erik. I’ve waited days.”

He straightened, took a deep, calming breath, and took Charles by the waist. He told himself he knew what he was doing.

Charles stepped closer, eliminating the space between them, and his stomach tightened involuntarily.

“We’re going to do this quickly,” he said, as much for himself. “And remember, it’s just one kiss.”

“But that’s not what—”

“It’s what you initially asked for.”

“Yes, but—”

He pressed a finger to Charles’s lips, Charles stopped talking, and he dipped his head. 

He first kissed Charles on the cheek. Just a soft peck that served its purpose and calmed Charles. Charles let out a soft breath and turned his face slightly toward him.

“Very good, Erik,” Charles whispered encouragingly, his mouth at the corner of his own. “Now, was that the one kiss or can I hope for something more adult? Be careful of your answer as I am holding my breath.”

He snorted under his breath. Still, he was pleased at how it was going. Charles was letting him control the situation and he felt he had things in hand.

He kissed Charles across the jaw, down to his chin, around and up to the other side of his face...

“Oh,” Charles sighed, soft as a falling whisper. “Very good indeed...”

His kissed up Charles’s cheek, to the side of his nose...on each eyelid...

“Oh...my...” Charles’s fists tightened in his jersey, pressing into his torso. “Erik, this is...”

He kissed down once more, skimming across Charles’s lips where his mouth had fallen open, across the wet, plump flesh, and then...on a whim, sucked on it. And shuddered unexpectedly. 

Charles went rigid and pushed him up against the door. Startled, he froze. Charles came right up against him, legs spread and pressing their arousals together. Charles shifted, holding him around the waist and settling more intimately against him, making a sound he had only ever heard in his fantasies.

He became painfully erect. He tightened his grip on Charles’s hip, trying to get some distance between them, but Charles slid his fingers into the back of his head and gripped him by the hair, holding him still. Charles then opened his mouth, slid his hot tongue inside his mouth and began darting it in and out, groaning.

Electricity raked through his body. He silently went rigid as intense pleasure shot and spread through to his fingertips, leaving him tight and gasping in shock. He began twisting his mouth to get away from Charles.

“Oh yes, Erik,” Charles whispered hotly, raining kisses up and down his face. “I know, Erik. Me too.”

He tried yelling but only a soft gasp came out. Charles captured his mouth again.

He shoved weakly, this time succeeding to get Charles to notice his condition. Charles pulled away, and he bent over and closed his eyes against the lights still popping in his cerebral cortex. He felt as though he had ejaculated too hard and had blown a fuse.

“What?” Charles asked foggily. “What happened?”

“You’re— you’re inside my head,” he panted.

“Is that not good?”

“It’s— too intense.”

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”

“It’s all right... Let’s...let’s... I think we should...”

“Please don’t say we should stop now,” Charles whispered. 

He looked up. Charles was looking down at him, his expressive eyes sad and almost liquid. Charles began rubbing his hand across his neck and shoulders, slipping it into his hair and gripping and then releasing him.

He was certain Charles meant to be comforting him, but his eyes and his hand couldn’t seem to quite follow that plan.

“Erik, we’re— I’ll— I-I promise to be more careful. I’ll try to, um...” Charles was looking from his eyes to his mouth, his wet tongue running over his lips, seeming to have completely forgotten what he was about to say. His fingers bit painfully into him. His eyes ran all over his face. “I-I’m sure I can—”

He was back to kissing Charles before he knew what he was doing.

This time Charles didn’t hold back. Charles stayed out of his head but his hands were everywhere. Over his shoulders and across his chest and arms, and unbuckling him so fast he thought he’d done it himself using his powers. 

Then Charles gripped the material of his pockets and used them to pull him closer. “Erik,” he moaned, lifting his head to breathe across his mouth. “I want you to not hold back. I want you to give me everything.” 

Then, evidently tired of waiting, Charles pulled back, stuck his hand down his pants and grabbed him. 

He gasped, as Charles squeezed him hard, and gripped Charles’s wrist so hard that it was only by making Charles wince that he was able to save himself from ejaculating. 

He down stared at Charles, his mouth open as precome oozed down his thigh.

Charles had frozen. “Erik, I’m so sorry!”

He let out a long, careful breath and slowly released Charles, who then released him, blushing as he withdrew his hand.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” Charles fretted, patting him on the shoulder. “I didn’t mean— God, this is coming out all wrong.”

He stared at Charles while his breath returned. He was starting to get a funny feeling. 

“Charles,” he said softly. “How many times have you done this?”

“Done what?” Charles asked immediately. 

Evasively.

He stared at Charles.

“D’you mean...that? Or invite men up to my room. Or-or did you mean with co-eds?”

“With anyone.” God help him, this couldn’t be what he thought it was.

“Lots of times. A few. There....were...four or five times where— Look, I’ve been taking care of Raven since she was seven and have been busy in college. It’s not easy, you know, getting a PhD. It takes years and years. Of bloody hard work. Try doing that and getting steady— and that’s while living with a teenager, mind you. It’s actually somewhat of a slight miracle that I was able to— Erik, come on, I know how it’s done, what’s more important, you know how it’s done.”

His excitement had devastatingly cooled. Cold, hard fear began to seep in. 

He saw what he had been about to do with Charles’s trust, had been about to initiate acts of intimacy belonging in an entirely different kind of relationship, with an entirely different kind of person, inside this, the first true friendship of his life.

And he realized that he had been about to do it out of nothing but a momentary need to titillate himself while making a point, and felt ill. God, what the fuck had he been thinking?

He quickly began tucking his jersey back in.

“Erik, what are you doing?”

He refused to look at Charles.

“Despite all your attempts to the contrary, Charles, you shouldn’t have had that lap dance in front of me. It was a dead giveaway.”

“What’re you talking about?”

He reached for his belt buckle.

“And you should stop trying to pick up women in the manner in which you do. A person would have to be blind not to see— God, what was I thinking.”

He reached for the door knob.

“Erik, stop.”

He twisted it. He was almost out. Just one pull and he was out.

“Erik, you promised.”

He stopped and whipped around. “I promised to suck your cock?”

Charles blinked. His vulgarity had been the point.

“Good and hard,” Charles said softly.

Everything stilled.

He blinked at Charles.

“And I don’t think I’m mistaken about that.”

He couldn’t form a thought. 

The image that had caused this whole predicament, the one Charles was talking about, had been his. And he had seen Charles react to it. 

Yet it was somehow not real until this moment.

“Erik,” Charles said softly. “I’m not a child, and you’re being entirely too precious about this. You’re not a monster, you know, here to take my virginity or something equally silly.”

When he could still only stare—

“I’ve had you and you alone on my mind since the day we first met. I can’t say what it’s all about but I do know that merely thinking of you makes me feel very good, and I am not shy to say that the idea of something more positively sets me alight.” Charles gave him a thoughtful, appraising look. “So in case you don’t understand, I’d like to have sex with you.”

He was sure Charles had done something to his mind. He didn’t seem to be breathing.

“Please.”

“Charles,” he finally said hoarsely, faltering. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Don’t you trust me? I’ll promise to stay out of your head, if you like.”

“It’s not that,” he managed to say around the feeling in his chest. “I trust you completely. With my thoughts, my feelings. Even when I don’t want you to hear them, I trust you.”

“Then what is it?”

He let go of the door and turned back to Charles. He touched him on the cheek. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“Of course you won’t.” Then Charles stopped and looked at him carefully. “D’you mean physically?”

“No.” 

Charles let out a breath, which by itself made his heart contract. He was almost certain, despite Charles’s bravado, that Charles had never been with a man and it was obvious Charles was nervous.

“I meant—” he clarified, not sure why he was finding it so difficult to speak. “I don’t know what you want from me. What do you want from me, Charles?”

“Oh, Erik,” Charles said softly, a poignant look on his face, so that he felt as though he had been missing something all along. “That you would even ask such a thing. I may be the relative novice here but you’ve led such a sheltered life.”

He frowned, completely lost. “I don’t think I understand.”

Charles, apparently deciding there’d been enough talk, came up until he was pressed up against him, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling himself so close that there was no room for any false moves.

Charles gave him his seductive once-over. “Let’s just say, you show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”

He still had no idea what Charles meant, but the time for talking was indeed over.

He took Charles to the bed.

Charles got on it without any guidance from him, first sitting on the edge, then lowering himself onto his elbows, then sliding on his back. He slowly wriggled upward to the head, spreading his legs and looking at him all the while.

By the time Charles was at the head of the bed, he was dry-mouthed. 

He moved up on one knee and spread his hand. The metal buckle of Charles’s belt came apart. Charles caught his breath, but didn’t utter a word. He flicked his hand and Charles’s button and zipper also succumbed. He gripped the bottoms of Charles’s trousers and pulled, hand over hand, watching the material slither off Charles’s hips. He pulled the trousers off and tossed them. Charles sat up on one elbow and undid his tie, sliding it free and tossing that as well. He watched, mesmerized, as Charles expertly undid the buttons to his Oxford one at a time, with one hand, then shrug out of it. Charles then laid down, holding his gaze. 

He moved up, knelt over Charles’s body and placed his hands on either side of Charles’s head, and lowered his lips. He touched them to Charles’s, Charles lifted his head, flicked out his tongue. He flicked at it with his own, when both of them groaned he knew if they wanted to last he couldn’t do it again. He lowered his mouth fully to Charles’s and slid in his tongue. Charles responded, sliding his tongue around his, coming at him as though he meant to devour him. His head caught fire. He poured everything into the kiss, their first true, and swallowed all of Charles’s moans, mingling with his own. He was only half aware when Charles let go of his waist and pushed his boxer down, lifting his legs to get rid of them. Then Charles brought his arms back around him, dragging him down on top of him. 

He was still fully clothed. They shed his clothes together, writhing and turning and unwrapping and wrapping their legs around each other. When they were both naked they held each other. Him on top, Charles beneath. Charles gasped, arched into him, and he pushed down, rocked slow and hard, their bodies setting the other on fire. Charles wrapped him in a cocoon, his mouth pulled him into a melting heat that incinerated the world, and left him floating in a place without boundaries, without himself. 

He gasped for breath and raised himself on his forearm, but didn’t break the kiss. He rolled his hips and felt Charles roll with him, trailed his fingers down Charles’s chest, curling helplessly when Charles returned the favor, and when his fingers caught and refused to leave his nipple. Charles shifted, and was down by it before he knew what was happening, closing his mouth over it. He felt his head drop, the power sapped out of him. His cock was trapped against Charles’s body, making him twist when Charles’s hands found their way to his ass, kneading and spreading him while his tongue did its work. His body began moving up of its own accord, his cock seeking the heat of Charles’s mouth. But he fought it, disbelieving of the noises coming from his own throat. Charles seemed to realize what he was trying to avoid and looked up, gave him a sullen look which he knew instinctively was his cue to make his move and lose.

He moved, trailing down Charles’s body, leaving wet spots by the tip of his tongue. When he at last reached his destination, he held the moment in his head and breathed on Charles’s cock. “Oh, God, Erik,” he heard softly, and he ignored it. Charles writhed under him, anticipation popping sweat all over him. He finally slid his tongue up the length of Charles’s shaft, round his cock head and brought his cock into his mouth. Charles grabbed his arms, lifting himself off the bed and rocked into his mouth. But it was only the beginning.

He pushed Charles back down, buried his head between his legs and because he had indeed promised it, sucked the aptitude out of him. Charles grunted helplessly, turning boneless under him and scratching mindlessly at his arms. He couldn’t continue it going for long. Charles was coming apart fast and he had more of his promise to keep. He let Charles’s cock slide out and went under, licking past his scrotum, breathing as he found the spot he’d promised. Charles gripped his shoulders as he stiffened his tongue and pressed it deep and hard, feeling the bump of nerves slide roughly under his tongue. Charles immediately orgasmed. 

The jolt shocked them both, Charles crying out and his nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him so close he used his teeth. It sent Charles over the edge. He held on, worrying the spot, sucking on it while Charles deteriorated under him, pumping with his hand until he was sure Charles was spilling everything for him.

And that was when Charles showed him his.

At first it was like flashbulbs, and he tensed instinctually, but that instantly passed. And then it was as if pleasure radiated from everywhere in the world and he had become the only receptacle for it. He burrowed his head into Charles and ran his tongue everywhere as if he life depended on it. And then that too passed, and then the real thing came. 

It was like being pierced with the most delicious of Cupid’s arrows while floating in a sea of sensual pleasure. He opened his mouth but no sound came, only wrapping his arm around Charles’s thigh and pressing his forehead to it while Charles stroked his hair. For endless moment he could no nothing but hold on, feeling it slice right through him, tearing him open...and feeling the real him come pouring out. 

His childhood, taken from him, was re-knitted, and for a moment he became the man he had never been. Unburdened. Free.

The moment was perfect, the sensation whole. And it was Charles holding him there. 

He breathed, pressed his wet eyes to Charles’s thigh.

And then it, too, passed. 

He came down off the intensity and felt the pleasure ebbing...to be replaced by a more familiar one.

Dazedly, he looked down the length of his body, wondering how he had gotten on his back, and found Charles with his head between his legs. He dropped back and closed his eyes, and spread his arms across the bed as far as they would go. He gripped the edges of the mattress and turned his head to the wall, thinking, as he came apart, that whatever else happened in his life, he would never forget this night...

~*~

Charles was on his back and staring contemplatively up at the ceiling when he awoke. Charles had his arms flung out to the side and he was lying on his side in its crook.

He lifted his head, trying not to feel self-conscious of what they had done, trying instead to focus on Charles’s smiling face. 

“Welcome back, mutant.”

“Thank you,” he said softly. He had to know. “Charles, what did you do to me?”

Charles looked down at him, then gave him a nod followed by a slow wink. “I had sex with you.”

He would have laughed if he’d had the strength. “And you’re a novice?” he asked in genuine awe.

“What I am,” Charles said, turning on his side to face him, “is a natural.” Then, lowering his voice to a silky purr, “And you, my friend, are amazing. That was un-believable. Just like I knew you’d be.”

He shook his head, trying not to smile.

“Oh, look. Still trying to hide how wonderful we are.”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. There was no one else on Earth like Charles. He’d begun to suspect, but now he knew.

Charles settled once again on his back. They were quiet for a while.

“It ought not to have taken you this long to come to my bed, you know, Erik,” Charles said softly. “We mustn’t ever be afraid of what we are together, you and I.”

“And what is that?”

Charles lifted his head and looked down at him. “Friends, of course.” Then he laid back down. “And we must never forget that.”

He closed his eyes, taking in the word. No, he never would.

~*~

End


End file.
